


Devil Makes Three

by Snyuuk



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:55:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snyuuk/pseuds/Snyuuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not so much a matter of if you'll find this one to be a douchebag, it's when.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> arugh sldkfjoadslkjcsaewbnra

His name is Alex. He's just barely 6' tall. He's got blonde hair, freckles, and green eyes. She met him in a biology tutoring session when she was the shining ray of hope in a bleak world of failing grades in intro classes. At the time, those striking irises were magnified by lab goggles. He does not like it when you ask him for details about the year he spent abroad in China. You ask him anyway.

It takes you two weeks to decide that he's a douchebag.

With the way he calls her babe as if he renamed her, and the way he texts her at one AM, and the way he drinks more than she does, and the way he doesn't like to hold her hand for too long because her hands get clammy. And the way his hugs are loose but territorial. She's happy with him though (or at least she thinks she is) from what you can see. And that should be well enough for the next few days or so--that's when you do start to prod and ask her more questions concerning her particular choice of relationship.

(Jane calls it sweet. Jake calls it bitching. They're both wrong.)

Roxy Lalonde is in a relationship.

Again.

golgothasTerror [GT] opened memo on board LET THE COUNTDOWN BEGIN!!!!

timaeusTestified [TT] responded to memo.   
gutsyGumshoe [GG] responded to memo.

GT: I think you all will be pleased to hear that my suit has officially been dry cleaned to perfection!   
GT: Just ten more days until this old dusty rag gets put to use *ON THE RED CARPET*!   
GT: *Ten* days!!!   
GT: ***TEN DAYS***!!!!   
GT: I dont think i can contain my excitement for much longer.   
TT: This is containing? GG: I'm surprised to hear you even own a suit.   
GT: Well its not mine per say.   
GG: Per se.  
GT: Its my late grandfathers. My grandmas letting me borrow it for the occasion.   
TT: It's fantastic.  
TT: There are ruffles.   
GG: Oh dear.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] responded to memo.

TG: whew sorry everybody for holdin up the partay   
TG: whatre we countin down to   
GT: What do you mean what are we counting down to?!?!?!  
GT: Tell me youre kidding lalonde. You couldnt have consumed so much liquor to have forgotten that the new strider film is coming out in TEN DAYS!!!   
GT: The good strider i mean.   
TT: Thanks, bro.   
TG: oh yea whoops forgot about that   
TG: sorry jakey im gonna be sick that day or somethin   
GG: Likewise. :P   
TT: The girls have decided not to join us this time around.   
GT: Woah woah woah.   
GT: Dont tell me youre backing out on us now ladies!! I thought the four of us were going to get all dolled up and see THE MOVIE PREMIERE OF THE DECADE!!!   
GT: I cant believe you two!   
TT: I'm shocked and appalled.   
TT: That you two would so brazenly ditch us this way.   
TT: After my brother so generously saved you two these tickets that are worth all of five hundred dollars that include the value of sitting through endless stair-falling and crotch-kicking, respectively.   
TT: It's just a damn shame.   
GT: What he said!   
TG: who the fuck paid 500 bucks for that   
GG: Believe me when I say I mean no disrespect to your brother or his glamorous movie premieres.   
GG: And I certainly didn't intend for it to come off as if I was "ditching" you!   
GG: It's just...   
TG: his movies are legit the smelliest shit to ever be pooped outta hollywoods butt   
TT: Respect at its finest.   
GG: I didn't say that.   
TT: So you disagree?   
GG: Well.   
GG: No.   
TG: lol   
TG: in my defense i can totly say that cuz ive already told davey to his face so   
GT: How do you get away with insulting one of hollywoods finest filmmakers??? Shouldnt this cause some sort of scandal?   
GT: Lalonde vs strider debacles that the press would be all over?   
TT: All Lalonde vs. Strider debacles have been sidestepped for the foreseeable future.   
TG: cuz his bro and my mom r totally bangin   
GG: I thought the press didn't know about that?   
GG: It seems with "news" as big as that it would be publicized rather exaggeratedly, but I've seen nothing even mentioning the sort in recent media.   
TG: dont worry janey they know   
TG: moms just got a way of keepin people to shut the fuck up   
TG: when dealin w CERTAIN corproations its a super good skill to have   
TG: js   
GG: We're not talking about this here. And if we were, I would say I STILL have no control over the way BCCorp has been running the recent propaganda against your mother. If you could even call it propaganda.   
TG: u totally could call it tht   
TG: mom just knows how to cover her shit   
TG: another skill u gotta know when dealing w/ mudslinging bullshitters   
TG: who will not b named   
TG: but maybs have some relation to some people in this chat   
TG: whose text is totally not blue   
TT: Subtlety incarnated. That's what you are Roxy. GG: Someone please change the subject before I go completely stir crazy!!!   
GT: How about changing it to what this memo was *ORIGINALLY* intended for.   
GT: Which was to talk about awesome flicks and not about whatever family drama you three have muddled yourselves into!   
GT: And since you birds are fleeing the coop the night of the big event im calling an emergency movie night!   
TG: theres like literally no escapin u is there   
TT: One way or another Jake English will find you.   
TT: And make you watch movies that you hate.   
TG: brb   
GT: Maybe if you all werent so picky these movies nights would go much smoother than they usually turn up!   
GG: Honestly, I don't know why this always ends up being a problem.   
GG: Hypothetically we could pick any movie   
GG: Any GOOD movie   
GG: And Jake would still enjoy it.   
TT: It's because Jake always picks.   
GT: I do not!   
GT: Just last week we watched that foreigny brit film jane.   
GT: And dirk i watched that anime thingy with you right?   
TT: That was a Kurosawa film.   
GT: Subtitles and everything.   
GT: So I guess it's my turn to pick again this week!   
GG: Sigh.   
TT: Ditto.   
GT: Oh dont be like that you two! Ive got this great sandra bullock film picked out for this week.   
GG: The one about the football player? Because that one looked genuinely heartwarming.   
GT: No no no no. Though that was a great film.   
GT: Im talking about the old 90s one where shes a super hacker! What a lady indeed! Talk about versatile acting!  
TG: baaaack   
TG: whats goin down   
GT: Emergency movie night ms lalonde!   
TG: wow yea ok   
TG: as suuuuuuper tempting as that sounds   
TG: i gotta bounce so this is actually me signin off   
GG: Are you headed out?   
TG: yea alex called and said he wanted to hang out so im gonna head to his place for a bit   
TT: Lame.   
TT: Whatever happened to bros before hos?   
TG: totally overruled when youre not gonna get any make out action from ur bros   
TG: u gotta stay up with the times dirky the rulebooks changin everyday   
GT: Why not invite him over then? We could squeeze one more into dirks nasty old apartment!   
TT: Hey everyone, guess we're hosting movie night over at my fucking place.   
GG: I think it sounds like a great idea! I haven't really even met him, either. Aside from that one time I bumped into him in the hallway of your building, but I hardly think that counts.   
TT: No big deal. I could have the place bug bombed or some shit tonight, but, nah, we'll just live through the fumes for the sake of sacred movie night.   
TG: nah i dont think hes up for meetin people yet   
TG: besides i dont want the first time he meets u guys to be in dirkys nasty gross bug bombed apartment   
GT: Awwwww! :(   
TG: sorry babes but ill text u all tomorrow mkayyy   
TG: maybs not u jakey   
GT: Hey!   
TG: (shhh its just a cover u know ur my fave)   
GT: (Just playing along of course. *devilish grin*)   
TG: (*secret winks/blowin kisses @ u* <333)   
TG: bye!!!

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] left the memo. 

Yeah, you hate it when they do that. You kind of hate yourself that you hate that they do that. It's this big cycle of hating yourself for things you shouldn't hate yourself for but do so you hate yourself for it.

You should probably clean your apartment. Not that it's gross and nasty or bug bombed, you would just like to state that for the record. If it was any of those things it wouldn't be because of you. Yeah, the paints chipping a little bit, and the carpet is stained some odd color you didn't know existed, and if you leave the bathroom fan on for too long it smells like eggs. But that just comes with cost of living, though. Those eggs smell like home you, for fuck's sake and you will have no one insulting your egg smelling apartment. You guess you could light a candle or something, though. For Jane, you think as you search for your matches.

You leave the memo when you realize you're spacing out and staring at blue and green flutter through the chat window but you can't process words. Whatever, you'll see them tonight anyway. When you're searching for your matches under the numerous papers flooding your desk you hear the familiar notification noise from your pesterchum. Finding matches is too much work and you decide to settle back into your office chair, instead.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: dirkyyyy   
TT: Hey.   
TT: I thought you were off to have make outs with your hos not bros.   
TG: dont you worry   
TG: its on the list   
TG: believe u me   
TG: i just wanted to ask you somethin real quick before i head out   
TT: Shoot.   
TG: hey so will u come to lunch w/ me and alex tom??   
TG: i know its kinda short notice but ur a lazy fuck who doesnt do anything neway soooo <333   
TT: I thought you said he wasn't up to meeting anyone yet.   
TT: This sounds like a pretty official meeting, if you ask me.   
TT: We're not talking about crashing a tutoring session or bumping into Mr. Punctuality stomping through the halls of your apartment building.   
TT: This sounds like something I'll have to wear a tie for.   
TG: omg please dont wear a tie   
TT: I'm wearing a tie.   
TG: dirk you win super loser of the week   
TG: but i dont rly givea shit if hes being super difficult about meeting you guys   
TG: cuz hes coming to lunch w/ us anyway   
TG: idk weve just been datin for like a month now   
TG: doesnt feel right for you guys not to know each other   
TG: or at least MEET each other at a time when hes not tryin to get his pants back on lmao   
TG: so whattya say???   
TG: comin??   
TT: Sure.   
TG: awesomeeeeee   
TG: ok i should probs go now   
TG: OH wait also ps   
TG: sorry for ditchin you with dave striders second biggest fan ever at premiere night   
TT: I hope you're not implying that I'm the first.   
TG: daveys the first obviously   
TT: Hah.   
TT: It's fine. If anything it'll be a good night with people who actually enjoy being there.   
TG: psh yea exactly   
TG: why u dont want janey and me there n e way   
TG: hope ur not dreadin it too much w/out us lovely ladies there tho hehehe   
TT: I'm actually looking forward to it.   
TT: The movie not you two not being there.   
TT: It's been six years since my bro put out a feature like this. He wouldn't even let me have a peek of it, either, so I'm guessing it's pretty heavy stuff this time around.   
TT: There are rumors that Ben Stiller's gonna retire after this film, though.   
TT: If that's true this marks the end of a big SB&HJ era. Kind of like the Batman eras or the James Bond eras.   
TG: are you comparin hella jeff to james bond   
TT: No, I'm comparing Sweet Bro to James Bond.   
TT: The point is it's going to be this fantastically bro filled night where we mourn the loss of a great epoch, just waiting besides ourselves for the douchebag Christian Bales and Daniel Craigs.   
TT: Bro's going to give a speech, if that gives you any idea what the weight of this situation is.   
TT: And it's not a rap.   
TG: woah   
TT: Yeah.   
TG: well good   
TG: then i dont feel super bad for ditching your butt with jakey then   
TG: you have ur super fun time bro night distri   
TG: ill probs be swamped with finishing up my paper anyway so idk which gives me the suckier deal   
TG: busting my noggin over fenestrology with ectobio theology bs on a friday   
TG: or strider boy wet dream movie night   
TG: w h a t 2 do w hat 2 do TG: im still stickin with the first one   
TT: Your loss.   
TT: How is your paper coming along, anyway?   
TT: Catching you on pchum is a fucking miracle nowadays.   
TG: its almost done actually   
TG: and by almost done i mean the first draft   
TG: so when i give it to my prof to rip into its probs gonna end up with me spending even more time tryin to clear thru all the fucking red pen jfc   
TT: If you need me to read over anything just let me know.   
TT: I'm not as well versed in dark fenestrology and the like but I could probably offer some useful insight.   
TG: yea ill probs do that before handin into my prof just so everything reads super silky smooth   
TG: oooh shit i gotta go alex keeps textin me   
TG: neway see u tomorrow dirky <3333   
TT: Bye.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: ok but ifyou wear a tie wear the easter one lmao   
TG: ok legit gotta go byebyebyebyebey

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

That tie should be around here somewhere.

\--------------------------------

You're early. Not for any reason in particular, but you are. Donned in your pointed shades, and your best collared shirt, and your "good" jeans, and a tie with bunnies snuggling up with bright painted eggs which is fucking adorable as shit, yo. You sit there patiently watching the door open and close and ding and slam with every customer that finds their way to the worn and inelegant restaurant. Everything on the menu is Vietnamese and you don't know why you're still allowed in here after you and Roxy had asked the waiters to help you pronounce every single item on the menu.

And after Roxy shoved chopsticks up her nose every time the waiter came by to ask them how their food was.

It's a good place and you like it here.

The bell above the door dings once but the door opens for two. Her manicured fingers push a wide palm against the flimsy door that slams behind the boy who trails behind her--the blinds that cover the small window of the door flopping violently against the movement and just barely missing an opportunity to nip at the back of that guy's head. She scans the room and when she sees you she waves and tugs what looks to be one hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight along. You stand, customarily wiping your hand down your tie to keep it in place, and she laughs at the formality kissing you on the cheek when you pull out the chair for her. She curtseys into the seat and you're left with two men standing, his hand already reaching out for his own seat. You make eye contact with him from behind your shades and stare.

Roxy rolls her eyes and looks over the menu. You don't know why, she already knows what she's getting.

The guy straightens and waddles over to you in pants too big and goes for the introductory bro-hug. He pats you three times on the back. You do not know this man. He is not your bro. He gets no pats.

"Hey, man. Heard a lot about you," he says retracting back from the hug. "I'm Alex."

"Dirk."

A part of you wants to turn to Roxy and say, there, we've met, but now you have to go because things come up; your bro's calling, Jake got his hand stuck in the DVD player, you have papers to write, and problems to solve and you don't have time to play big brother. But that's a lie. You do have the time to play big brother, more than time. You have a whole fucking life to play big brother. She just thinks you have all the time in the world to dick around and you can take two fucking hours to have lunch with the new squeeze.

So you sit down and give him a nod and look over the menu. You don't know why, you already know what you're getting.

Roxy talks most of the time. You don't like talking all that much around people you don't know/don't like and Alex's poignant indifference to being here makes for a combination of both. But Roxy likes you both well enough to not care about how either of you are feeling in that exact moment. She keeps talking. And you like listening to her talk, which is good because she does it a lot. And she talks about you. Of course she talks about you. She's known this guy for one month--maybe two--and you've known her since she was seven and that includes the months in which she's known Alex. This isn't about you meeting him, it's about him meeting you. It's introducing him to, "back when me and Dirky were in 6th grade," and "one time back when me and Di were in NYC," and other such tales that make up everything she knows about you. Everything she feels about you. You notice, if you tilt your head at a certain angle the points of your glasses block out any third party at all, and you can trick yourself for half a minute that you're not sharing her conversation with any other.

But you're just listening. You're just watching.

You're good at listening, but you're better at watching.

You watch as he slips his hand into hers, and that she squeezes back immediately. You watch her grin when she looks at you, but smile when she looks at him. You watch him tuck a small piece of hair behind her ear, and you watch Roxy teach him how to use chopsticks. You watch him slip a hand around her waist when she stands to give him a quick peck on his lips and head to the restroom. You watch your own hands curl around the chopsticks expertly, and taking a big bite of your broken rice and set them down neatly because you've lost your appetite.

"Hey, so you guys are pretty tight friends, huh?" You turn your head to stare at him and give him a brief nod. "So, what? Are you like the big bro I gotta get past or something."

You wipe your mouth on a napkin and lean forward on the table. "Yeah, along those lines. Except I like to think I'm more of the protective father archetype in this scenario. You know, where the guy sits on the front porch with a shotgun waiting for his little girl to get home--damning hell itself for making her curfew past 9 PM. Though, if she doesn't come home at all the first shell is probably going into the guy's left nut first. Or the right. Depending on the aim," you sit back and take up your chopsticks again. "But I've good aim," you stare over the top of your glasses. "Righty."

He doesn't say anything until Roxy comes back.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering timaeusTestified [TT]

GG: So how did lunch go?   
TT: I don't like him.   
GG: Yes, but, you don't like anyone, Dirk.   
TT: Does that mean my opinion becomes invalidated?   
GG: Just a tad!

You cross your arms and refuse to respond to Jane's messages sooner than thirty seconds. She calls you a child. You up her punishment to 45 seconds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AO3 coding is the worst kind of coding. 
> 
> Also hello, this exists again.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: dirky omfg   
TG: what did you evens ay to alex  
TG: stop freakin the fuck outta my bfs for shits or else im gonna nail ur balls to a tree branch and watch you swing TG: oh also call me for where you wanna eat tonight   
TG: im feelin mexican   
TG: lets get our fiesty fiesta on 2nite ;))))   
TG: ugh fine dont be online   
TG: L O S E R

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is an idle chum!

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering timaeusTestified [TT]   
  
GG: Hello, Dirk!   
GG: You're not answering your phone, so I should probably assume you're not online, either.   
GG: Nevertheless, something's come up and I need to leave for Washington tomorrow for a week or so.   
GG: It's no reason to worry, but I'll still need someone to water my plants and feed dear sweet Lil Seb.   
GG: Everything is the same as last time; the plant food is under the kitchen counter, fish food under the bathroom sink, etc.   
GG: Except I have a new bamboo plant in the living room, so please be careful with it!   
GG: And by "be careful" I mean don't let Jake near it!   
GG: Thanks, and see you all in a week!

gutsyGumshoe [GG] is offline.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

GT: Hey bro. Quick culinary inquiry because jane seems to have gone awol on me.   
GT: Eggs dont *really* go bad do they?

You like Jane's apartment. It's like the vacation version of yours. The walls are a gentle blue that the four of you committed a weekend to painting, with bright colored rugs and furniture to compliment the well cleaned hardwood. You would feel as though you're staying in an Ikea model house if it weren't for the definite signs of a worn in home. There are pictures in frames and on the ratty bulletin board that held reminders and paper trinkets of a blooming life. Different from your own place, where pictures are framed by your desktop, and the only thing that scatters the desk and floors are wires and schematics of projects you'll finish one day. You drive to her house around 9 AM and idly water each plant that accents the apartment, being sure to stop and feed Lil Seb his fish food (not without a customary stare down, though--you've won two out of three).

Her note to you is pinned on the fridge, and you help yourself to the food that has an expiration dated for the next few days--she even makes you some Tupperware lunches out of a thank you for "taking time out of your extraordinarily busy life." How Jane can sincerely thank you, and still make you feel like a miscreant hobo is beyond your fucking comprehension. You get back at her by eating half her yogurt.

A week passes like that. You wake up, you decide if you really need breakfast, you drive to Jane's, you finish the set list of tasks, and you eat her food. With a dwindling sense of purpose and productivity Jane's apartment becomes a refuge for lethargic hands that seek task, and Lil Seb is your very willing partner in crime throughout. By the time Friday rolls around you decide you're comfortable enough in her house to crack her password to check your e-mail because heading home right away didn't sound all that appealing. Besides, Lil Seb needed the company.

Jesus, and maybe while you were at it you could install some malware or some basic as hell pop up blockers. It takes you two minutes and twenty six seconds to crack her password. It takes her computer four minutes and two seconds to fully load, only to be bombarded with flashing browsers, ads, pop ups, and every single application every installed ever (ever). A few minutes devoted to the task of weeding out the weaker browsers from the herd leaves one single flashing pesterchum window. You're about to sign off of Jane's account, (hell yeah, watch you go. Moving at the speed of light that's been delayed in traffic. Look at that perfectly normal lag when you click the application on the toolbar. You would describe this as just under the average of the speed of light) when the window that pops up catches your eye.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

TG: hey janey   
TG: i know ur off hangin w/ ur dad n stuff but like   
TG: i could rly use some bestie chats   
TG: janey   
TG: ??   
GG: Hey Rox. It's Dirk.   
GG: Everything okay?   
TG: hey whatre you doin on janeys account????   
TG: sounds like someones up to no good   
TG: im thinkin i caught u red fuckin handed   
TG: fingers all up in that cookie jar   
TG: im gonna pester the e-popo rn and tell on youuuuu   
GG: No officer, please. I'm too young to have my internet service taken away.   
TG: ugh this is weird seein ur words in janeys color   
TG: this is totally trippin me up   
GG: Sorry, I'm playing babysitter to the Crocker Jr. abode and I was just checking my e-mail on Jane's computer. Pesterchum logged her in automatically.   
GG: I would've switched accounts but I saw your message.   
GG: Everything okay?   
TG: yeah im   
TG: not   
TG: i guess   
TG: i kinda got dumped yesterday   
GG: What? How did that happen?   
TG: idk   
TG: guess he just got tired of me   
TG: not anything super new lmao   
GG: What a douchebag.   
TG: yup i totally got dumped by a douchebag   
TG: it makes the shittiness feel like   
TG: 100000% better   
GG: Are you alright?   
TG: nope   
TG: i know its dumb but im really really not   
GG: It's not dumb.   
GG: I mean, hell, you dated the guy for roughly two months? There's a factor of inevitability created over that amount of time.   
GG: That kind of "oh shit" tier you reach in a relationship.   
GG: It's an echelon where you get the rights to get upset over bullshit that doesn't matter in the first place.   
GG: He isn't answering my texts? Oh shit. He's out with the homies, all of whom that have last names that are different variations of dawg? Oh shit.   
GG: Except he reached this status three fucking weeks ago, with the way he couldn't calm his shit when you hung out with us.   
GG: Or me.   
GG: That being said when something to be legitimately upset about comes along, it's emphasized by all previous Oh Shit that had been steadily piling on.   
GG: And that only leads to being in a pool of shit.   
GG: I think being in a pool of shit is not something dumb to be upset about.   
TG: lmao you reeeeeeeally didnt like him huh   
GG: Nope.   
TG: i guess thats cool now   
TG: tbh i dont rly like him right now a lot either   
TG: which is somethin that totally sucks to feel when i still do really like him yknow   
TG: i never rly saw there bein much shit   
TG: like idk maybe a lil duckie pond of shit   
TG: w cutie ducklings that didnt think it stunk super bad   
TG: but a pool is so not what i was divin into when he broke it off   
GG: How did he do it?   
TG: he txted me   
GG: A literal ocean of shit.   
TG: yea ok that was a bitch move for him   
TG: w/e im just gonna hit up ladies night over at the bar on 4th   
TG: well ok janeys not here   
TG: so like   
TG: lady night   
TG: which sounds a lil raunchy but w/e because a buck off cocktails for the finest o specimens   
GG: Rox, come on.   
GG: If you're gonna go, don't go on your own at least.   
GG: Can't you cope with some unrealistically cliche romcoms and a bucket of ice cream?   
TG: no omg   
TG: buuuuut i may be persuaded into watchin some shitty scifi flicks with some pickle juice   
TG: + some 2 player shooter vgames   
GG: Do you want me to come over?   
TG: yea kinda   
TG: sorry to put u on hot mess duty but janeys mia   
TG: i mean like   
TG: if u can tho   
GG: What would you do if I couldn't?   
TG: o ys its lady night   
TG: and the feelins right   
TG: o yes its lady night   
TG: (o what a night)   
GG: Sounds kind of like a threat.   
TG: di i am a big fuckin girl   
TG: i dont need you holdin my hand/hair every time i go out for a little bit o booze   
TG: its chill either way   
GG: What time do your classes get out?   
TG: 430ish   
GG: I'll be over around 5.   
TG: are u doin this because you give a shit   
TG: or because u just dont want me to drink   
GG: I'm doing this so I can beat your high score.   
TG: lololol ok fine then u are welcome in the rolal home   
GG: Sweet.   
TG: hey dirk   
TG: thanks tho   
TG: like really   
GG: Yeah.   
GG: Anytime.   
TG: ok well i g2g   
TG: ill cya later   
TG: <33333

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased bothering gustyGumshoe [GG]

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering golgothasTerror [GT]

GG: Hey. I can't make it tonight bro.   
GT: Yes i gathered with you being two states away along with your general disdain for all things totally sweet!   
GG: Shit. Hang on.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased bothering golgothasTerror [GT]

GT: Uh.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

TT: Hey. I can't make it tonight bro.   
GT: WHAT?!   
GT: Are you joshing me? Please say youre yanking my chain in full here strider!   
GT: What the frig do you mean you cant make it tonight?!   
TT: Something's come up. Sorry to bail out on you last minute, but it's not like me not going stops you from getting your walk down the red carpet.   
GT: Dirk i dont think you understand the gravity of what youre saying.   
GT: This is the world premiere of one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces ever created!   
GT: This is your brothers life work!   
GT: This is a once in a lifetime chance to feel the bask of stillers last stand in an epic bound to make it to the pages of history!   
GT: And thats all just fluff added on to the real reason why you cant back out tonight!   
TT: The real reason being?   
GT: YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME ALONE WITH YOUR BROTHER!!!!!!!!!!!   
TT: Dude. What the fuck? I thought you kissed the gravel that's been scraped off his shoes. It's like all I fucking here is your grandiose admiration for the guy that kind of borders on stalking.   
TT: What happened to all that better Strider bullshit?   
GT: Well sure! He still is! If a fellow wants to write a senior thesis on film theory or the like!   
GT: The man is completely inept in social situations! Its as if his perception of peoples emotions and reactions are completely eschewed from that of a normal mans.   
TT: Christ, you terrify me sometimes.   
GT: Plus hes just plain weird!   
GT: I dont think ill be able to handle such a strong dosage of the man without a proper buffer.   
TT: Sorry to disappoint, but you're going to have to go buffer-less for the night.   
GT: What came up thats so important you have to miss this??   
GT: Dont lie to me dirk. You were just as excited as me behind all ironic malarkey.   
TT: It's nothing major.   
TT: Just something with Roxy.   
TT: Her boyfriend broke up with her.   
GT: Douche!   
GT: Douche move!   
GT: My douche alarm is going off full buzzer here!   
GT: Its screaming DOUCHE at volumes only dogs can respond to just by my being in the same chat as you.   
TT: How am I being a douche? Where exactly in this situation is this shining through other than a last minute notice that I can't make it tonight?   
GT: Oh come on.   
GT: She JUST broke up with the man. You would think you would let the body cool before you did any sort of heroic swooping.   
GT: This is something that can clearly wait a full 24 hours. Its only decent.   
TT: I'm not swooping. I'm helping out a friend who is upset as another friend.   
TT: This has nothing to do with heroics and everything to do with me being Jane's understudy. I just want to make sure she doesn't do anything dumb on her own.   
GT: So youre ditching me to play babysitter to a gal who is perfectly capable to be left on her own.   
TT: You know how she gets when she drinks.   
GT: Fine strider.   
GT: Go off to lalonde with your completely pure intentions.   
GT: But know that you will not be forgiven for six years. One year for every sbahj movie.   
GT: That is your sentence.   
TT: What do I get for good behavior?   
GT: A big load of fat chance!   
GT: Now bugger off youre douching up the chat.   
TT: Have fun tonight.   
GT: I hate you.

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

He'll get over it.

When you knock on the door to Roxy's apartment, a part of you expects her to come up with her usual smile. That same sort of skip she has when she pulls you into a hug, or when she ruffles your hair, or pokes your glasses. It's that sort of ritual of affection she has, and surely no jackass in pants three sizes too big could deter her from answering the door for you with an equal bout of enthusiasm. Instead, when you knock for the third time, you hear an irritated and impatient voice muffled through the door.

"I said it's open!"

Her voice breaks a little, and you wonder if it's a torn echo from sound trying to penetrate the door. You peak your head inside, and she's nowhere even close to getting up for you. She's made the couch of her apartment her home, coating herself in a shield of blankets as she curls up with exhausted eyes that have swipes of mascara leftover from the facade she surely painted on herself this morning. She barely looks as if she would make the effort to bring the soda on the table up to her lips, much less turn her head to greet you. And it's not right. No fucking loser should ever make her feel this defeated, should ever take away this much spirit from her. He's mad at him, and he's almost a little mad at her for letting it happen at all. But that's why he's here, right? To snap her out of it? To bring her back to the world of the living? To sit her up and look her in the eye and tell her how much fucking better she deserves and that feeling this down about a guy who broke up with her over text message is never going to be worth the sad eyes she's giving the television.

That's your complete intention when you lean down in front of the couch so that you can be at eye level with her. To use your powers as the better man to bring out the soul of a greater girl.

"Come on, get up." She shakes her head. "Rox, come on." She shakes it again and brings the blankets up over her face as if to block you out. Well fuck, why did she even want you to come over in the first place if all you would be doing was talking to her pink polka dotted throw? You put a careful hand on her shoulder, but you can feel it twitch--not out of instinct or reflex, but because it's followed by a short sniffle afterwards. Just as thunder is preceded by lightening. She's crying. She's crying over something not worth her time, but you can't even say that because you just gave her a longwinded speech on how it was okay to be upset, and sad, and pissed. It's just, maybe you were expecting (hoping) for the "being pissed" part to take some precedence. It tugs on the sides of your mouth until it feels as though there are anchors weighing down on your frown.

Nevertheless, you gently lift her head and sit on the couch, allowing her to use your lap as a pillow. You rests his hand on where you think is the side of her head through the blanket, and let her tears spill over onto your jeans as you watch the Discovery channel. Eventually she does agree to play video games, but her attempts are lackluster and her laughs are forced and short. It drains your energy and makes your limbs feel heavy and week. Her inability to be completely consoled in less than thirty minutes makes your role as the official understudy comforter feel completely disregarded. Or perhaps you're not doing it right? Perhaps you're just bad at this whole "being there for your friends" thing, and you feel somewhat guilty for coming over at all. So much so, that you feel a bit confused when she thanks you for spending time with her sorry ass.

You stay the night, and she curls up next to you in the moments before sleep fully consumes her, but end up moving to the couch when deep slumber has her kicking and fidgeting against your side.

You folds your arms behind your head and wonder if maybe you thought, on some level, that something would happen tonight. You're somehow not all that surprised with yourself that you're as disappointed as you are.


	3. Chapter 3

His name is Cory. He's 5'7, but you bet you could shape his disgustingly unwashed and greasy hair into an even 6 feet. He's got brown hair, wears fucking grandma glasses when he reads, and never goes anywhere without the appropriate shade of gruff around his puny chin. She met him in the university's student union when he struck up a compelling discussion about the book she was reading. Seeing as it was her mother's work (and that she always had something to say on the subject) they hit it off quite well. He does not like it when you pretend to mistake him for a graduate student. He does not like it when you ask what year he expects to graduate already. You do it anyway.

It takes you three days to decide he's a douchebag.

With the way he never laughs, and hangs out with the four of you only to make her leave early every time. With the way he can only feel comfortable in dingy college cafes, and the way he calls her so late at night to dump his emotional baggage on her because his artistic soul can't take it alone. With the way he fucking disregards her drinking as one of her many flaws, but promises he loves her unconditionally, regardless.

She's happy with him though--fuck only knows why--from what you saw at lunch when he sketched her profile on a paper tablecloth and she became more invested in his doodle than holding a damn conversation. You decide a week is enough time to pass for you to start questioning her taste in men over pesterchum (and text, and sometimes in person).

Still, what's done is done.

Roxy Lalonde is in a relationship.

Surprise surprise.

gutsyGumeshoe [GG] opened memo on board Please do not feed the drama llama!

GG: I already know what you both are going to say.  
GG: I'm using this memo here and now to apologize before any of this gets too out of hand.   
GG: Between us, I mean.  
GG: Or before anyone goes pointing fingers at people who had nothing to do with that news article in the first place!  
GG: I've already said that once I inherit the company, we won't fuss around with ridiculous gossip such as this.  
GG: So please know that I had nothing to do with, nor did I know about, what would appear in this morning's paper.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] joined the memo.

TG: duh u didnt have anything to do with that dumb trashy article  
TG: i got at least tht much faint in u  
GG: Well, I appreciate as much.  
TG: its not a real fuckin surprise   
TG: seein as bccorp owns the fuckin dickbag daily  
TG: but u can go ahead n unclench ur booty janey  
TG: ur not the one im super pissed @

timaeusTestified [TT] joined the memo.  
golgothasTerror [GT] joined the memo.

GT: I feel like i missed something.  
GT: Whats all this about a paper?  
TG: bccorp wrote this super nasty article on davey  
TG: kinda pinned momma down w/ it  
GT: I thought you said the press was keeping their nose out of their affairs and whatnot!  
GT: Seems like a pretty ballsy move.  
TG: they WERE keepin their affairs to themselves but idk guess bccorp got tired of playin fair  
TG: wanted to play with their slimey lil newsies instead  
GT: What was it that they said anyhow?  
TT: Just a second, I have it up in another tab.  
TT: "The mind of Dave Strider has been commented on by many to be just as childish and grossly immature as the juvenile mudslinging found in any one of his several cult-classic films. His "ironic" statements on government are paired with those of Rose Lalonde, author of the popular young adult series Complacency of the Learned, and Grimoire's Short Stories. With recent information found on her financial and romantic ties with Dave Strider, the world may find itself being introduced to an era of unconventional celebrity conspirators."  
GT: Holy cow.  
GT: Theyre not pulling any punches there are they.  
TT: I'll link you the rest of the article. They don't stop there.  
TT: But I wouldn't be surprised if half of their sources turned out to be bro in the first place.  
TG: lol  
GG: If you want, I've already prepared a dignified and secretive cancellation on both your parts to the annual fundraiser event this Saturday.  
GG: I can understand if neither of you want to go.  
GT: I dont want to go either!  
GG: Shush!  
GG: You don't count.  
GT: Clearly i should set my sights on making some enemies around these parts.  
GT: Its the only thing that gets you out of these stuffy events.  
GG: It won't kill you to wear a suit twice in one year!  
GT: Twice in two months!  
GT: And i still feel itchy from dirks bros premiere.  
TT: I relieve an anguished sigh on your behalf.  
GG: Don't encourage him. Even "ironically." It will just cause more problems for me!  
TG: its cool janey  
TG: i know its like one of those dumb + cute things u get super excited about  
TG: sides moms not gonna go  
TG: she p much told me to go for her so w/e  
TT: Dave didn't really give a shit about the article. Neither do I, if I'm honest.  
TT: If anything it just adds to the level of sincerity emphasized by the humor he uses to bring out his point in the first place. He's set it up so no matter what BCCorp throws his way, he comes out on top.  
TT: We'll be there on Saturday.  
GG: Oh.  
GG: Well that's nice to hear!  
GG: A bit surprising, but I'm glad you're all coming, at least.  
GG: Roxy, were you planning on bringing Cory?  
TG: nah  
TG: he already said no  
GT: Doesnt want to get muddled with all that family drama i take it.  
TT: If only it were so simple.  
TG: psh  
TG: hes just against this kinda stuff in general  
TG: got his own personal protest goin on by turning me down  
GG: Oh brother.  
GG: He sounds like one of those ridiculous activist elitists.  
TG: u mean  
TG: a  
TG: conspirator/  
TG: *???????????????  
GG: I didn't mean it like that!  
TG: yea yea  
GG: I already said I was sorry. For something I was not directly involved with, too!  
GG: The fact remains that, even with this indiscretion on the Morning Daily and their connection to my company, it's still MY company.  
TT: We're aware Jane.  
TT: We're just waiting for the day it officially becomes your company.  
TT: It could use some touching up from Crocker Jr. and her iron fist of congeniality.  
TG: w/e TG: can we like not talk about this rn  
TG: im gettin a fuckin headache  
GT: The storm of the hangover beckons! What would rate this one lalonde? A 5? An infamous 8?  
GT: Last time i went boozing with you i was fairly close to a 4 myself. A new record in my book.  
TT: I'll get the blue ribbons ready.  
TG: its not a hangover jfc  
TG: its all ur fuckin yappering  
TG: dumb pchum noises going off like the worlds worst fuckin game of ping pong up in my head  
TG: i dont need any boozin to get pisse doff fuvm  
TG: ugh i need to lie down  
TT: Are you okay?  
GT: Yes ditto on the questionnaire. You sound full on provoked.  
TG: yea im fine   
TG: nvm srry bout the snappin @ u babes  
TG: im just gonna ollie on out for now

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has left the memo.

GT: I woke the beast.  
TT: Jesus.  
GG: I think she just needs some rest.  
GG: She had a long night last night.  
TT: What happened?  
GG: Problems with Cory, from what she told me.  
GG: He tends to have his little "emotional outbursts" between the hours of 1 and 5 AM.  
GG: Apparently he lashed out about her drinking in the crux of this. To be honest I didn't expect her to take something like that so close to heart, what with how we aren't exactly secretive in regards to how WE feel about it.  
GT: Yikes that sounds like a positively rancid time for roxy. Theres always something rotten about hearing things like that from the person youre being wined and dined by.  
GT: There is a bit of silver lining in there isnt there?  
GG: Yes, it's just executed poorly.  
GG: However, maybe she needs an outside party for her to reflect on that particular habit! I don't think I would go about with the method he uses, but if that's what it takes maybe it isn't all bad.  
GT: Good positive thinking jane!  
TT: What method? He has no method.  
TT: His method is to focus in on her alcoholism as a way to criticize her so he can feel better about how phenomenally mentally fucked up he is.  
TT: Mommy never loved me and daddy never hugged me aren't reasons to belittle her.  
GT: Help me comprehend something here strider.  
GT: Is this fellow not allowed to help roxy with her particular drinking habits because he doesnt have the proper amount of decency in his intentions?  
GT: How you must perish and loathe the thought of any such assistance!  
TT: I'm just saying that there are certain ways to approach this type of problem, and the way he's doing it is the worst case scenario.  
GT: Answers diplomatic to the final indignant punctuation mark! Wouldnt you say jane? GG: Uh.  
GG: Is there something going on?  
TT: No.  
GT: Absolutely not.  
GG: ...  
TT: Whatever. I'm just saying any kind of confrontation that comes out of the backburner of a temper tantrum isn't something I'm going to find valid until I see some hard numbers. Not just Rox storming out of a chat because you were being a prick.  
GT: Hey!  
TT: Until then, I've got shit to do. Stuff to take care of, things to attend to.   
TT: Not being in this chat anymore is going to help the productivity of all of the above by an even 100%.

timaeusTestified [TT] left the memo.

GT: Im an even 2 for 2!  
GG: Being an expert at irritating your friends isn't something I would be proud of.  
GT: I suppose youre right.  
GT: My behavior was probably not at its best. I dont know how on earth you would plan to control me and my rambunctious ways.  
GT: Especially at any sort of formal event.  
GG: Sigh.

You slide on your computer chair away from your desk in a minor fit of aggravation, ignoring when various knick knacks clatter together, one falling into a two day old mug of coffee. It would be much more dramatic and effective if you actually had a place to go outside the vicinity of your desk, but that's not really the case. You spin to stare at the rest of your living room--cables snaking around furniture, newspapers and scraps of metal scattered about, and framed move posters adding the only splash of decoration. You decide that maybe this is the day you don't give a shit about things like the state of your apartment. Good start, since you don't tend to give a shit about that anyway.

You decide you don't give a shit about Jake being an antagonistic dick in front of Jane, just for the sake of getting at your goat. Too bad the petting zoo of goats is fucking shut to all patrons known as Jake English. You decide to sell the goats to a traveling band of gypsies because they gave you a sweet deal and helped you unload all your goats. Jake will never find a single one of your goats for as long as he lives.

The phone in your pocket vibrates, and when it illuminates a text from your brother it goes ignored for the time being. You unlock your phone to scroll through your text logs. Maybe you missed a text from her last night. Maybe it just didn't notify you, because even though Jane is a steady go-to, you like to think you passed a pretty good qualifier last time around. You decide to not give a shit when the last text from her was two days ago, though.

You pocket the phone when you hear the static of voices rising to your apartment window, walking over to open the blinds. A flurry of reporters and photographers gather around the front of the building and when one spots you, he takes a picture before you have a chance to shut your blinds again. They're waiting to ask questions about your brother, about your thoughts on your brother, about how you feel about this article and, more importantly, how your brother feels about it too.

You decide you don't give a shit about that either.

\-------------------

The annual BCCorp Charity Fundraiser event is the one night of the year in which Jane Crocker would cash in every guilt trip she had stored from every awful movie, every terrible joke, and every unsettling cocktail. It had been this way since you had all first met at age 15, with the exception of Jake who had been dragged along since he had been in diapers. It was a shock you could even force him into a suit considering when he was a child all the stories you've heard seem to involve the level of difficulty it took to force him into his diaper.

You'll admit the monkey suit isn't something you don often, either. The tie itches your throat, the fabric of the stiff jacket restricts your movements, and you feel out of place in anything other than well worn jeans. Unlike Dave who lives and breathes the socialite scene, wearing his suit as comfortably as he wears his own skin. He's become adjusted to this environment, while you've done everything you could to avoid being too socially invested in a world that does nothing but make you exhausted. A world where the shake of a hand is the sign of a contract, the repetition of conversation makes you dizzy, and the starch in your shirt stiffens the muscles in your back. So you step out, content to live your own life with your own social boundaries, and your own pace of life, and your own stalwart indecisiveness, and your own regrets.

And that leaves you next to your brother, in your obviously-I-rented blue suit that chafes your stomach, and tight lips pressed together in the only expression that can relay your discomfort. You wonder if his shadow casts a wide enough net to hide you away as you stand in the far most corner of the room. The time passes dully on your watch that is checked more by Jake who grabs your arm and nearly presses it up against his nose in regular intervals. Still, Jake will disappear now and again--finding someone from this world that can genuinely spread his generous smile. He leads Jane out to dance once or twice. It's funny to watch them bicker. He leads Roxy out to dance a few times too.

They bicker too but it's not as funny.

There's nothing else to do really but watch Roxy. Jane is in there too, but she tends to be far more social, fluttering around the room and greeting everyone like a proper hostess. Yet here's Roxy, infamous for her disdain for these people, and you just don't get how she can still act so charming and bright. Her knee length cocktail dress moves when she does, and her bottomless pit of a martini glass seems to do nothing but enable her ability to keep up pleasant conversation with nearly everyone you recognize and a lot more you don't. Her laugh acts as a filter for the white noise of the party, and it calms you just a bit.

Jake comes back to join you with crossed arms and a sore foot. Jane "accidentally" stepped on his left one.

"She said 'that way, I would still have the other one as a back up!" He doesn't appreciate you snickering at his moping.

Later in the night Mr. Crocker stops by to clap you both on the shoulder and ask how your lives are going. There's a tenseness in your shoulders that doesn't fade even when he takes his hand away, and your focus goes to the bottom of the wine glass, bobbing in and out of sight. Jake gives him a hearty laugh and tells him about the expedition he's going on with a group of researchers from his grandmother's company. They're leaving in seven months, and they plan to excavate a set part of land in Western Africa. With luck, they'll establish a fourth laboratory there to continue their research on uranium right in the heart of the preserved ruins.

Meanwhile, you try and find a different word for unemployed.

"Hey," Jake says when Mr. C leaves your line of sight.

"If you're interested, this old gal I used to date told me about this electrician job out in Pasadena."

"Don't know. Maybe."

"It's a two week job, Dirk. I know you don't really need the dough, but when you stay stagnant for too long you tend to get a touch moody if you don't mind me saying!"

"I do mind."

"Well suck up that self pity gut because I already volunteered you for it. I figured it wouldn't disrupt anything too major in that tightly wound schedule of yours," he sticks out his tongue and flicks your ear. Reflexively, you grab at his fingers and crush them in a tight grip until he uses his other hand to grab at your hair. You duck out of the way just in time at the cost of releasing his hopefully bruising digits.

"Asshole."

"Douche."

You finish your wine and keep the empty glass in your hand, unwilling to move to an area with tables or flustered waiters. "Send me her number and I'll give her a call. I need to explain that even though you jumped to volunteer me I may not be equipped to handle whatever her problem is."

"You're not equipped to handle anything," he laughs and puts a friendly arm around you. You let him keep it there until a traveling waiter comes around with another tray of wine glasses.

You figure that's a good enough thank you.


End file.
